Christmas Eve on Her Doorstep
by longdistance
Summary: Every Christmas Eve he appears at her home with a gift. This year, he's late.


**Hi everyone! In addition to my regular story, I've cooked up two Christmas themed one shots. Here's the first. I hope you enjoy it and happy holidays to all, no matter what you celebrate! Please read and review. :)**

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 **Christmas Eve on Her Doorstep**

 _Christmas Eve 2004_

He was late.

Hermione sat in the window seat of her two story London flat and watched the snow flurries freefall from the sky. Her Christmas shopping had been done in the last week and she'd spent the afternoon as she always did, sipping hot chocolate and batting away Crookshanks' attempts to thwart her wrapping her presents the muggle way. That cat had some weird attraction to tape.

Half past six, she settled into her window seat to alternate between watching the snow fall under the light of the neighborhood lampposts and reading a good book. She'd debated on dressing up but finally settled on her comfortable Christmas pajamas with her tattered Hogwarts sweatshirt. School pride seemed a lost relic but it was comfortable and broken in.

For four years he'd shown up at seven on the dot outside her flat, standing under the closest lamppost offering some sort of gift—apologies or some other rot.

At half past seven, he was late.

~o~O~o~

 _Christmas Eve 1999_

"Crookshanks, stop it!"

Hermione frowned at her fluffy orange tabby cat as he sat under her tree, his paw outstretched for a low hanging ornament. He had the audacity to peer at her over his furry shoulder and yet his paw still inched forward as he retained eye contact, his bottle-brush tail swishing in challenge.

"Don't," she warned again, her voice low. "Mrs. Weasley gave me that ornament and she made it herself. I'll withhold your Christmas rat if you so much as sneeze on it."

He ginger cat's bright eyes seemed to widen as if he understood and he finally sat back on his haunches, his tail swishing the floor.

"Good boy," she cooed as she stooped to rest her neatly wrapped gifts under the decorated tree.

She'd chosen her parents ornaments to decorate it. A mixture of old, frosted glass ornaments adorned with silver and gold detail dressed the full balsam fir, topped with the gold star inherited from her grandparents.

They were gone, lost to her in the war when a group of Death Eaters managed to find their whereabouts, but their memories lingered. It was that which still allowed her to smile. She should have been buried under her grief spending only her second Christmas without them. Yet she was able to hold onto the small bit of light which had kept her afloat in the last year and a half since the war.

The Weasleys made certain she had a place to spend the holidays, no matter that her short-lived relationship with Ron had not manifested into anything serious. Molly assured her repeatedly that she'd always be welcome. Ron had even insisted on it. The split had been amicable and they remained best friends thankfully.

Tomorrow she'd spend Christmas day with them unwrapping carefully chosen gifts and gorging on their normal holiday feast. Tonight was for her.

She selected a well-worn book from her bookshelf behind her sofa, smiling at the built in white shelves flanked by white brick. Her flat was her one selfish purchase since the war. A place to call her own, a place where she could sit happily on the edges between the muggle and wizarding communities. The flat had been carefully selected when she'd found it on the market as it quite literally sat on the cusp of the two communities making her coming and going much easier no matter which way she chose.

With her book in hand and a cup of hot cocoa, she settled into her other favorite feature of her home—her window seat. On a night such as this, it was snowing and she could watch the delicate flurries fall from the dreary grey night sky under the neighborhood lamplight.

Hermione turned one more careful glance towards her cat and was relieved to find he'd abandoned the tree entirely and was now curled up on the wingback chair near the sofa. An old Christmas film was playing in the background quietly and he seemed content to watch sleepily.

She glanced out her window again and jumped when she looked closely.

Dressed in all black, his shoes shining under the lamplight, he held a glittering silver package in his black gloved hands. His pale hair was parted on the side and brushed back aristocratically as the last time she'd seen him and his grey eyes, even from this distance, looked wary. Questioning even.

Hermione sat up straighter when she realized she was staring, realized he could see her, and slowly swung her sock covered feet over the edge of the window seat. She glanced at him again as she made to move from her seat and watched him shift from foot to foot uneasily.

She rushed to her coat closet where she slipped her feet into her fur-lined boots and quickly grabbed for her peacoat. She buttoned it hastily and made for her front door.

What in Merlin's name was Draco Malfoy doing, not just in her neighborhood, but standing under a lamppost watching her with what appeared to be a gift in his hands. Bizarre occurrence indeed.

She opened her door slowly and made to carefully descend her snowy front steps.

"Malfoy," she questioned hesitantly.

Draco moved towards her then, meeting her as she stopped on the last step, keeping them near eye level.

He stayed silent as he held out the small package to her, his dragonhide gloves brushing her bare hands.

Hermione eyed the package, the elegantly wrapped box and the gauzy ribbon tied neatly around it, and then looked up at him.

"What…what are you doing here? I've not seen you since we left Hogwarts."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "You see me at work. I've passed you in the halls at the Ministry."

She rolled her eyes, a puff of her breath ghosting past her lips as she released a huff. "Fine. Correction. We've not _spoken_ since we left Hogwarts. I don't particularly think passing one another in the halls counts as true interaction. I believe your last words to me at school were only in regards to a Transfiguration assignment." She eyed the package again and crossed her arms to hide her cold hands. "Therefore, the question remains—what are you doing here? How did you even know where I live?"

"I have my sources," he answered evasively. "And clearly I'm here to offer you this."

"Why," she questioned again, making no move to accept it.

His grey eyes darted around, anywhere but her own for a moment before he finally swallowed. "Do I need a distinct reason or can I not offer someone I've wronged in the past a gift on Christmas?"

Finding his answer odd but not horrible, she finally allowed her arms to unfold and she hesitantly took the box from his outstretched hands.

His own hands fell by his side and he looked clearly relieved as he watched the box in her hands intently.

"Well," he prodded. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Hermione shook her head at his odd behavior. Truly, they'd not spoken a single word at work. They worked in distinctly different departments—him in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, specifically the Improper Use of Magic Office and her in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

She sighed to herself, still not satisfied not knowing what brought her former bully to her home on Christmas Eve to offer her a gift.

She lifted the lid and set it under the box before reaching inside. She pulled out a pair of women's black, fur-lined dragonhide gloves. The material was supple and clearly expensive as these appeared to be the finest handmade options she'd seen before in Madam Malkin's in Diagon Alley.

"Malfoy," she opened her mouth to respond and quickly shut it before trying again.

"Are they the right size," he asked.

Her brown eyes shot up to him in wonder and she bit her lip as she shuffled the box under her arm and slowly pulled them on.

"They're perfect," she answered quietly. She lifted her eyes to him again. "But why?"

Draco shrugged. "You always look cold and you never wear gloves." He shoved his own gloved hands in his coat pockets and stepped away from her front steps. "Happy Christmas, Granger."

He left as he crossed into the wizarding section of her neighborhood and disapparated quietly.

And so it began.

To her surprise, he showed up again on the next Christmas Eve much in the same way he did the year before. He'd offered her a first edition copy of Hogwarts, A History. He just shrugged at her when she argued she couldn't accept because for a second year she had no gift for him. Not satisfied, she approached him hesitantly, forgetting that she was in her pajamas and just her coat, and wrapped her arms around him in a loose hug.

Draco had stood there, dumbfounded, before he awkwardly patted her back with one large hand. He nodded stiffly when she stepped back and retreated the way he came.

On the next Christmas Eve, Hermione was prepared for him.

At seven o'clock, she glanced out her window from her window seat and spotted the familiar blonde. A little older now, his coat was grey now even though the rest of his attire was still black.

She stood from her seat and met him on her front steps, in her pajamas as usual. Why break from tradition now?

When he pressed forward with his present, she smirked at him and pulled a small gift bag from behind her back.

Draco's eyes widened at this and they crinkled at the edges with wariness. "I don't expect anything in return, Granger. It's not why I come."

Hermione nodded and pressed her bag insistently into his gloved hands as she took the small box from his in her own gloved hands.

"I'm well aware by now. I believe I've figured you out."

He lifted a pale brow at that and a slight smirk lifted one corner of his mouth. "Am I truly that transparent?"

"Perhaps not to most," she countered, "But I'm not just anyone."

"No," he nodded in agreement, "Certainly no ordinary witch."

"You open first," she insisted.

He rolled his eyes but nodded resignedly. He dug his hand past the tissue paper and withdrew a pair of dragonhide seeker gloves. Good ones. Expensive ones.

He looked up in surprise and watched her shrug.

"I was promoted this year," she supplied. "It wasn't bad pay before but it got better. Harry told me you'd joined up to play in the Ministry's intramural league. I noticed you didn't have any at the last game they strong-armed me into attending."

Draco nodded in acceptance. "Thank you."

A small but delighted smile broke out on her face. She then opened her gift, surprised to find this year he'd given her jewelry. Diamond earrings at that. Small studs.

"Draco," she muttered unknowingly.

His eyes widened a fraction at her use of his given name, not having ever heard her address him as such.

"I assumed your ears were pierced. Was I wrong?" He didn't want to linger over the fact that she'd called him by name.

"No," she shook her head, wild curls flailing about her shoulders. "But…they're too much. I mean, the gloves were extravagant. The book was too rare…these are just…" She tipped her head in thought. "Too intimate. You don't even like me. We don't speak outside of this meeting once a year. Jewelry is something you give to someone you like. Someone you have intimate feelings for."

He swallowed nervously. "I'll never have any of those things so you might as well take them," he answered darkly.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut when she noticed the brief expression that ghosted his features. She replaced the lid on the small box and stepped forward slowly. She was aware of his eyes scrutinizing her every move but didn't stop.

She lifted on her toes and rested a hand on his chest lightly before pressing her lips to his cheek, praying he wouldn't say something rude or unsavory.

She understood that he'd begun coming to her to ease some part of his guilt. To do something that made him feel better about their past.

She didn't know what had spurred it so suddenly but she was certain that's why he came. Every year for three years.

"Happy Christmas, Draco. Thank you."

She turned and retreated inside before she could watch him walk away.

Draco stared after her for a moment. His cheek burning where her warm lips had touched him and he found the things he'd learned since the war to be true.

The next year was different from the last. They'd actually spoken some throughout the year. She'd attended the games he played against Harry's quidditch team, finding herself watching the blonde wizard more than her best friend. He chatted with her at the Ministry's annual ball that Fall when they both became bored with the incessant twittering of the press and the shallow displays of people's relationships or wealth.

By the time Christmas Eve came, Hermione was quite happy to say she could call him something of an acquaintance. Perhaps even a peripheral friend.

"No pajamas this year," he asked when she met him on her front steps.

Hermione shook her head, loose curls slipping from the sloppy bun she'd pinned them up in. "Ginny convinced me to join her for a last minute shopping excursion. She wanted input on Harry's gift."

She watched as his eyes traveled the length of her body, from her calf-high black riding boots to her grey winter coat that sat just above her knees. For some reason, his gaze caused an unfamiliar tremble to travel her spine. She wondered if he noted the diamond studs in her ears but didn't dare question him.

Draco retrieved a small box from his coat pocket and held it out to her.

Hermione accepted the golden box and eyed it carefully. It was the smallest yet. Not that the size of his gift mattered to her but it certainly piqued her curiosity.

Under the lid, she found a small vial with what appeared to be seeds. She lifted it between her gloved fingers and held it up to the lamplight carefully.

"What are they," she asked.

"Never ending roses," he answered. "Plant them wherever you want and they'll never die, no matter the weather. They also stay perfectly pruned."

She looked up at him, a small smile ghosting her lips. There'd not been any particular theme with his gifts yet they all seemed very personal and well thought out. Cliché or not, she loved roses. She wondered what these would look like once she planted them. The small patch of grass in front of her home was sorely lacking after all.

"Thank you, Draco. I'm sure they'll be lovely."

He nodded, his pale cheeks red from the cold. "They should be. The seeds came from my mother's garden."

Her brown eyes widened in surprise. She wondered if Narcissa Malfoy knew her son was offering her seeds from her own garden.

She'd decided on her gift to him months ago but had been wavering all week whether it would be appropriate. However, being the Gryffindor she was, she decided to push on.

She stepped back onto her last step to put her eyes level with his nose and leaned forward before she could rethink her actions.

She nearly melted herself when she pressed her warm lips to his, surprised by the softness she felt there.

Draco was shocked to feel her warm mouth pressed intently to his but didn't dare push her away.

She pulled back after a long moment and brushed her gloved thumb over his full bottom lip. Remembering his declaration the year before, she released a shuddering breath.

"You won't be alone forever, Draco. Have faith."

She left him standing there again, dumbfounded.

And now on the fifth Christmas Eve since it started, he was a half hour late. He'd never been late in the past. Not even by a minute.

She sighed dejectedly as she closed her book of choice. She couldn't concentrate. Had they ruined their tradition? Had he decided it was no longer necessary?

They'd gotten to know each other better over the last year. She'd shared lunch with him in the Ministry on a number of occasions and discussed many topics, never getting bored of his snarky wit. He'd even agreed to join her for coffee at her favorite muggle coffee shop a few times as well. She'd danced with him at the annual Ministry ball this year. Appreciating his snarling that scared off the likes of Cormac McLaggen when he tried to cut in.

Draco Malfoy was somewhere between a friend and something…something she couldn't quite name.

You didn't admire the way your friends filled out their clothes or imagine what their chest would look like underneath. You didn't get jealous when your friends had annoying pureblood witches try to flirt with them when you were trying to enjoy a simple drink at the Leaky Cauldron after work.

Hermione glanced over the bloody roses she'd planted just under her window and frowned. They were red. He'd given her seeds for red roses.

A part of her doubted he knew the significance of their meaning but the other part of her scoffed. He'd been fairly odd and strategic with all of her gifts. Though she'd not been able to decipher all of his reasons for choosing the ones he did.

Forty minutes past seven and she decided he wasn't coming. Perhaps his goal had been accomplished. He'd earned her trust and assuaged his guilt.

However, truth be told, he'd taken a piece of her heart in return. How in the world had she allowed herself to be wooed by his odd tradition?

With a sigh, she reached for her book again but startled when her doorbell rang.

Crookshanks looked up from his place where he was stretched out on his back under the Christmas tree, paws outstretched for low hanging lights. He looked just as surprised as she as he rolled over onto his fluffy belly to watch what happened next.

Hermione sighed and went to open her door. As her wand was tucked in the waistband of her pajama bottoms, she didn't bother to check the peep hole before she jerked the door open quickly.

Draco Malfoy stood before her, snow collecting in his pale blonde hair as he waited. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he appeared a bit out of breath oddly.

"I didn't think you were coming," she breathed. She cringed internally when she realized how dejected she sounded at the prospect.

A slight smirk tilted one corner of his mouth. "Your present was running late this year. It wasn't ready on time."

She swallowed and looked down at her socked feet shamefully. "You really don't have to buy me presents, Draco. I've found I like the company more than anything."

He nodded and glanced over her shoulder at her cozy flat and then back at her face.

"I know I've never been invited but can I come in?"

She flushed with embarrassment and nodded quickly, moving aside to allow him to pass.

Draco stepped inside, shaking snowflakes from his hair as he did. He removed his gloves and shoved them into one pocket as he stepped in to examine her tree. He didn't notice the ginger cat eyeing him closely. Didn't notice the cat shift to his furry paws and sniff around his booted feet.

"It certainly looks like you," he noted as he turned around to take in the rest of what he could see of her living room.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and shrugged. "It's not as large as I imagine your wing of the Manor to be but it's enough for me."

He nodded but didn't comment.

"Just the one story," he asked as he moved towards her mantle where she was standing near the fire and eyed some of her holiday trinkets.

"No, there's a second floor," she answered, slightly confused at his behavior. "Four bedrooms in all. Two baths. Not tiny but certainly no Manor."

Draco nodded again and finally turned to face her.

"I have one final Christmas Eve gift for you."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly and her heart plunged a bit in disappointment. However, she'd kind of felt in her gut that this was the end of their odd tradition.

"That's…that's good," she nodded. "You finally accept that I've forgiven you then."

He smirked down at her again. "I said it was my last Christmas _Eve_ gift for you. Not my last Christmas gift. Traditionally, my family doesn't open gifts until Christmas morning, Hermione."

She swallowed and couldn't form a proper response. What was he getting at exactly?

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled a small square box from it. He watched her brown eyes focus on it and then glance up at him in question.

"I finally have that faith you spoke of," he told her as he opened it to reveal a ring. A large oval ruby sat encrusted in a ring of tiny emeralds which seemed to emit their own fire.

Hermione's lips parted in awe as she studied the lovely ring. She'd never seen anything like it before in her life. It was as if the jewels had life and fire living within.

"Draco," she questioned when she met his grey eyes again.

His large hand cupped her cheek and he leaned down to kiss her as she'd kissed him the year before. He kept it short and pulled back to face her once more.

"I admit that I started this with mere intentions to apologize but you took a gift for yourself along the way. Clearly, you're unfamiliar with pureblood courting traditions or you'd have realized before what I was doing in the last year." His smirk was radiant when her brown eyes widened again. "In fairness, you gave me the opening last Christmas Eve to pursue you."

He took the ring from the box then and held it up between them.

"I'll never deserve you, Hermione. I accept that. Just as I accept that at my core, I'm a selfish bastard. I want for things I shouldn't have. You took my bleeding, blackened heart with you years ago."

Hermione's breathing increased as she listened to his words, her eyes darting from his to the ring and back.

"Say it," she breathed. "Say it or the answer will be no."

His grey eyes seemed to light with a fire of their own. "I love you."

Hermione launched herself at him. She stood on her toes and thrust both hands into that perfectly combed hair of his, not caring one whit if she ruined it.

His tongue brushed her lips and she opened her mouth eagerly to welcome him, her body shuddering as he swiped the sensitive insides of her mouth. She heard him groan but felt the vibrations in his chest as she pressed closely to him. A strong arm wound around her waist and supported her as he explored her mouth.

He didn't seem to care that she'd very much mussed his hair, didn't care that she'd bit his lip in her eagerness to kiss him more deeply.

Crookshanks brushed against their ankles as they kissed before he jumped onto the sofa and settled himself.

It was Draco who finally came to his senses first and slowed the kiss enough that he could pull back. He stared down at the vibrant witch in his arms and kissed her forehead before he eased her back on her heels.

"Is that a yes," he asked.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, it's a yes, you prat."

He smirked and reached for her hand where he slid the ring he'd been clutching onto the appropriate finger.

She glanced at the ring now adorning her finger and then up at him with a small smile. She lifted a hand and brushed his now warm cheek. "I love you, too. I think I have for a while."

He smiled before leaning in again for another kiss. He pulled her close and relished the feeling of her warm body pressed against his as her head rested comfortably against his chest.

"Perhaps we won't do away with the Christmas Eve gifts entirely," she sighed against him. "After all, if you can marry a muggle-born, I think you can accept some new traditions."

Hermione closed her eyes contentedly when she felt his lips press warmly to her forehead.

"Yes, dear."

Her lips curled into a little grin. "Hmm, good answer."

She looked up when she felt him tilt her chin up to meet his eyes.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione."

She leaned up to kiss him again. "Happy Christmas, Draco."


End file.
